there's only me, there's only you
by BerryliciousCheerio
Summary: we'll deal with the mess tomorrow. #2 in survival continuum. MAJOR ALLEGIANT SPOILERS AND ALTERATIONS.


**disclaimed.**

* * *

It starts over dinner.

Tobias comes home late, eleventh night this month, and I think I may be overreacting a little. Caleb's anniversary was a few weeks ago, and I've been on edge since, still off kilter from his lack of _being_.

So I snap at Tobias when he walks through the door. And I comment on his late entrance as he sets the table, watching him through narrowed eyes from the kitchen.

Sometimes I get scared of him—not of _him_, particularly, not for my safety—Tobias would never hurt me, not willingly, not purposefully. Sometimes I get scared, because he could not come home one day. He could get hurt, he could die—he could _leave_. He could stop wanting to be with me in an instant. We could stop wanting each other. People can change, love can fade. I am no romantic, but the very idea of not waking up next to Tobias threatens to suffocate me.

And so I make a rude comment over dinner. And that's when it really starts.

My comment settles heavily between us, and after a moment, Tobias asks coolly, "Is there something you want to talk about, Tris?"

And maybe his tone is what sets me off, maybe the infuriating way he's looking at me—like I'm a petulant child, needing to be talked down from throwing a tantrum. Words are exchanged; dishes are thrown.

And then my mouth opens and words spew forth, but they can't be mine. It's my voice, harsh and ragged—"If you want out, just _leave_," but they can't be my words, they can't be. His eyes narrow, jaw setting.

I half-expect him to walk out—I almost want him to. Give me something to vindicate my fears. Punish me for my brother. Punish me for Uriah and Will; for my mother, and my father. Make me hurt again for Marlene and Lynn. All the people that died, because I wasn't selfless enough for Abnegation.

It's one of those nights when I can forget all the good that's come from what happened—when all I remember is the blood and their corpses, all of them—. Tobias's voice startles me out of my thoughts. "You think I want to _leave_?"

He sounds hurt. He sounds unbelieving. He sounds angry. "

I don't—," I stammer, feeling the waves of grief and guilt threatening to take me under again. I don't know where I want to go with the thought, left half-finished to hang in the air. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't know why I said what I did. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.

"Tris," his voice breaks over my name, and my heart breaks with it. "Tris, I bought a ring."

I think I stop breathing. The implication behind that—"_I'll be your family now_"—I can feel my heartbeat in my eyes. Tobias shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small silk bag. He throws it at me, saying, "I was going to ask you to marry me."

I stare at him for a very long time, until I feel like a statue, rooted to my spot in the living room. Slowly, I open the bag, and slide the ring into my palm. It's delicate; intricate vines twisting together to cradle a diamond. It's delicate and strong, exactly what I would have chosen for myself. I turn it round between my fingers, turning it over and over again, memorizing what it feels like, a ray of sunshine in between my dark clouds.

"Ask me," I demand, needy and quiet. There's a yawning chasm opening within me as Tobias stays silent, this incredible sinking feeling weighing me down, dragging me to the bottom of the ocean. And then, slowly, he walks forward and takes my hands in his.

He sinks to one knee and brings my hands up to his lips, murmuring against the skin, "Beatrice Prior, will you marry me?" I think I'm crying—I feel so light, and I don't know if I ever actually give him an answer.

Tobias slips the ring onto my finger, my giddy silence answer enough, and I tug my hands away from his to cup his face and gently pull him back up to stand in front of me. His skin is warm against mine, and I murmur a litany of _I love you_'s against the skin of his jaw and I press my lips there. Tobias moves back, bringing me with him, his shoe crunching on a piece of one of the plates lost in the argument.

I laugh, coaxing a chuckle out of him as well.

We'll deal with the mess tomorrow—we have nothing but time on our side.

* * *

**to be continued**


End file.
